Finger Food
by wiredGIRL
Summary: When the Seals are living together, Kamui makes food often for them (he's getting better!), but why doesn't Subaru eat it? Embarassingly silly, but hopefully cute. S/K implied.


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Typical Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or X or [unfortunately] Kamui's cute poutiness. All belong strictly to CLAMP, but I do dream that I will eventually own Kamui. Er... I should shut up now.

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A Few Notes: Finger Food is such a horrible title. I can't believe I named it this. I'm mean~! XD; It was inspired, if you're wondering, by the dinner I ate tonight. Well, I had sphagetti. And I hope I spelled mostaccioli rigati correctly. @_@; This is my first real fan fiction aside from poetry, so if you can read and review I would love it. Thanks, and enjoy! =3

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Finger Food

Written by wiredGIRL on July 6, 2003.

He looked down at his plate, almost contemptuously. The Italian pasta with red sauce that had been placed on it was not even half-eaten. Appetite vanished, the young man stood up silently and carried his plate to the sink.

The red sauce, although lighter and a brighter hue, reminded him of blood. He stood and thought about this quietly, regurgitating memories of that night, unpleasant, but fulfilling, as his wish had been granted.

The small chunks of tomato and meat in the sauce made him uneasy. It was too similar to pieces of flesh, although he was aware they were different. As he stood there, he realized that they _were_ flesh though; that of an animal and that of a plant. Living things.

Years ago, he would have cried at such realizations. But today was not years ago. It was today.

Not only did the sauce remind him of tissue and blood, but the pasta... Small tubes, mostaccioli rigati. They reminded him of fingers. The moment the thought crossed his mind, his hands tensed tremulously. But he shrugged it off.

Fingers...

The fingers that plunged deep into his eye socket...

Just like he had wanted them to.

Subaru made a disgusted face at himself and turned on the tap, rinsing his plate off, watching the sauce and the noodles flow down. They left temporary stains on the white porcelain of the sink, sliding into the drain, which led to the used blades of a garbage disposal.

Constantly forgetting who the fingers really belonged to, he mused to himself that what was happening to the food had happened to Seishirou and him.

The stains from the pure porcelain could be wiped clean. That, to him, seemed the only difference...aside from the fact that the 'real' sauce seemed to go alone down the drain.

He thought about what would happen when he flipped the switch to the garbage disposal. It had already happened, long, long ago.

He finally dismissed his thoughts and turned on the blades, perhaps a little too eagerly than he would have liked to think he did, but a few of the noodles lingered over the rubber pieces in the drain, not caught by the spinning blades.

Oh god, how they looked like fingers. Fingers of the hand of the person who traveled down into hell with him but was never even grazed by the dull, used blades. Never hurt, only mocking. He jabbed the remaining pasta down the drain with his fork.

Subaru felt like throwing up.

After rinsing the plate and wiping out the little bit of sauce still remaining in the sink, he moved to mutter a few words of thanks for the food, so quietly that he hardly even voiced his gratitude, but stopped after two syllables as he came to a discovery:

A pair of slightly faded, but strangely still bright, violet eyes had been watching him carefully, nervously, intently.

The others at the table hadn't noticed, but continued enjoying the food, little mumbles here and there about various events of the day. They were used to how the younger boy followed the older man with his eyes and mind, and would not be surprised by anything that was about to happen, so they chose not to focus on it.

"I'm sorry," Kamui started, staring unhappily at his own plate of pasta. "I'm not a good cook, I know... I'll try harder next time, or maybe someone else can make dinner..." He only trailed off.

Surprised at the remark, although it was really something to be expected of the boy, Subaru shook his head.

Kamui still was not content; in fact, the expression in his eyes worsened and grew even more disappointed. He didn't want a lie, he could tell that the other did not want his food.

"It's not bad."

Kamui made a small noise that, if it were words, would have said, "of course not," with heavy sarcasm.

He had stopped eating himself now, feeling his cooking was unworthy for the people he loved. He wondered even why the others were still eating it, although for some reason, he didn't care as much.

Seeming to read his _exact_ thoughts, a small voice piped up: "Inuki _loves_ the food! It's very good, Kamui-san!" Yuzuriha, bored of the mindless, but oddly quiet, banter between Arashi and Sorata about their wedding day (or lack thereof), had inserted herself into the conversation.

The boy launched a weak smile in her direction. He didn't mention it, but dogs eat almost anything, if they've been spoiled like Inuki had been. He didn't really care if a dog liked his cooking. Subaru was not a dog.

Speaking of those-who-aren't-dogs, the man in question was standing still, not sure of what to say to reassure the boy. He turned his head abruptly to leave, but that was all that turned. His feet did not budge; he felt he had to give something back to Kamui for making him sad.

After all, he had just thrown the boy's hard work down the sink.

Sighing to himself, unhappy with himself, he sat back down at the table next to Kamui, setting his elbows upon its edge and folding his hands and resting his chin on them.

The forlorn look in Kamui's eyes was too much.

"It was good, really."

A sneering expression crossed through the forlornness briefly, without words.

Yuzuriha, who had been quite attentive to the two males, slowly realized why Arashi and Sorata were oddly not paying attention and fighting _quietly_. She withdrew herself from the conversation, turning attention to the dog at her feet.

The look in Kamui's eyes became more disgusted. His arms jerked slightly, as if he were to take his own plate and hurl it into the sink across the room. Subaru noticed this and felt guiltier.

"I just can't eat it." He responded, finally.

The younger boy's eyebrows lowered into an expression of what might have been anger. But after getting to know him, one would understand that something else was in his eyes. It was so similar to heartbreak... innocent heartbreak, and in all honesty, very cute despite the sadness.

Since he didn't feel like bringing it up around the others, especially since they weren't-but-really-were paying attention, Subaru brought one hand to the bandage that loosely covered his right eye, or lack thereof.

Of course the sixteen-year-old was too flushed and upset to notice the hint. Kamui's stubbornness was _extremely_ frustrating at times. But the pout encircling his lips was just too cute.

"Why don't you eat it? You're hungry, aren't you?" Subaru inquired.

Kamui smirked down at his plate; his eyes had not lifted from it. He stared down in disgust at his failure.

"Because it sucks." He said this a little too loudly and forcefully and emotionally, for the others glanced his way for a split second, except for Yuzuriha, who had begun to gape unknowingly at the two again, ignoring all else.

God. Kamui was just like a child who refused to eat spinach. Well, that wasn't so far from the truth...he now despised the food he worked so earnestly to make.

Irritated and tired of the _child_'s little fit, Subaru crossly took up Kamui's fork, stabbed at a few noodles and shoved it into the boy's mouth. "Eat."

Kamui's face turned from sullen to bright pink and _very_ surprised. Yuzuriha's jaw dropped.

"It's not bad. Eat it." The man reiterated.

Kamui gave him the most furious, angry, worst look he could muster. Which was of course, absolutely _adorable_.

And suddenly, slowly, and very unhappily, he began to chew. The fork was removed, but still in Subaru's hand. He watched as Kamui finished the mouthful and swallowed, reluctant and definitely _very_ sullen now; previous sulking was nothing compared to this. He still had the bright blush, however.

He looked as if he was going to spit it out, if he hadn't already swallowed the food. This kid was _incredibly_ stubborn.

"Then why don't you eat it?" He finally said, nearly yelling, and looking like he was about to cry.

How could he explain this? It was hard. He didn't want to make the boy worry, of course. He was too sweet and kind and caring. Suddenly all anger directed at the boy faded, and Subaru only smiled at Kamui.

As stubborn as ever, the boy glared, expectant of an answer.

Subaru considering saying something along the lines of it going to waste in his stomach, but he and Kamui both knew that it was better in his stomach than the sink. Why _did_ he put it into the sink anyway?! That was such a waste of good food and the boy's hard work! He suddenly felt even guiltier than he already had. He should have saved it. The nine-year-old habit of throwing out food had unfortunately kept steady.

Although the two young men did not notice, the others are barely trying to disguise the fact that they're watching intently.

With a sigh, Subaru began.

"I didn't feel like eating."

No response, but Kamui's eyes rolled back to his plate again.

"The food..."

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Was horrible, wasn't it? Kamui thought to himself.

"...reminded me of something."

The younger one's eyelids opened a little wider, an action that was barely noticeable.

"It has nothing to do with how it tastes. It was delicious, really. It was stupid of me to throw it out like that. I'm sorry."

Kamui's face put up a front, pouting even more, but it was easy to tell that he had already forgiven Subaru.

"I'm still hungry, though..." Kamui looked up at this last statement in surprise. Subaru stared down at the fork still in his hands, turning it over and over in a fumbling manner.

He moved, hovered the fork over Kamui's plate briefly, then poked a few of the noodles with its tines.

Kamui watched intently with no idea of what the other was doing.

Subaru looked silently for a moment at the fork that held the pasta, considering the earlier thought-up metaphor of fingers. It made his stomach turn a little bit again, but then came a silly, obvious observation: Mostaccioli rigati was too small to be those fingers. It was even... cute.

He glanced at Kamui's loosely fisted hands on either side of his plate. The boy had wonderful, small hands, which obviously put a lot of love and care into the dinner he made. Such little delicate fingers. Cute.

He grinned ever so slightly at the new thought.

With that, he popped the noodles into his mouth, and turned to Kamui, who looked up expectantly, and blushing a little.

"It really is delicious." He beamed.

Kamui just stared up at him, mouth hanging slightly open. He really was just so cute.

In fact, he was so cute that Subaru could not resist; he plucked a few more noodles with the fork and pushed it back into Kamui's mouth.

The boy blushed an impossible shade of red as if he were about to fall out of his seat, but accepted the food.

Yuzuriha's eyes just bulged and she repressed a squeal at the sight of the two sharing the same fork. The other two had stopped and gawked helplessly.

Now both of the males were smiling and eating happily.

It was just. Too. Cute.


End file.
